


the first time I fell for you

by greeny1710



Series: With You, Forever [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, First Meetings, Harassment, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710
Summary: George is a bartender, working events that often have people trying to take advantage of him. Normally it's fine, he can manage it.Some people just don't take no for an answer though
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell
Series: With You, Forever [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824415
Comments: 22
Kudos: 125





	the first time I fell for you

**Author's Note:**

> it seemed customary to introduce the start of George and Lewis' relationship to you
> 
> no one asked for this, but ya know, I wanted it so y'all can have it too lmao
> 
> hope you enjoy :)

George didn’t hate his job.

It was actually alright.

The people he worked with were decent.

The hours were alright.

And most importantly, the pay was fucking brilliant.

He was a university student, paying accommodation costs of living in London and trying to have enough money to _survive_ whilst living the life that a nineteen-year-old kid wanted meant that the pay cheque was one of the most important aspects of the job. And George’s was lucrative. 

Admittedly, he was only a bartender, and the three nights a week he worked at the student’s union for his university didn’t pay amazingly but it was good enough. 

It was the side job that was beautiful. 

What had started as a favour to a mate’s brother had landed George a bartending contract with a company that worked heavily at extremely formal events. Lawyers, politicians, the government, celebrities. All people that earned more in a week than George paid for an entire semester of university. 

They were people that had cash to throw around, and when the pretty boy behind the bar at their formal events laughed at their shit jokes and could flirt back a little bit, looking every inch the attractive young bartender that they all fantasised about bringing back to their hotel rooms but wouldn’t for fear of damaging their reputation, they’d always slide more than they needed to pay across the bar and tell George to keep the change.

Honestly, at times, he felt like a sex worker with the way they all looked at him. 

But even still, he knew that word easily got around in these circles and he wouldn’t let himself get taken advantage of, so no matter how much the people stared and made sleazy suggestions, George went home alone after every shift with the high-end fuckers.

Until one night when he didn’t.

When he broke all the rules he’d so carefully put in place to protect himself, to keep his job squeaky clean and his reputation shinier than the glasses he so painstakingly would clean every shift. 

The worst events, hands down, were always the ones that had the lawyers at them.

For some reason, they all acted like they were God and would brag about their cases and how effortlessly they’d defended or prosecuted someone. And frankly, George really could not give less of a shit about it. Sure, there were some people in the sector that were alright, and they’d always make a point of asking how George’s studies were going, but most of them just saw George as a slab of meat that they could try and worm into their beds. 

The dress code for these events was always formal, and every time George would painstaking spend what felt like hours ironing his white shirt before putting it on. His tie always had to be knotted to perfection. If George had been working on the floor, he’d be wearing a black waistcoat along with it, and, honestly, he’d never loved being behind the bar more. Instead he’d roll his sleeves up to his elbows and flash a grin at whoever he was serving before elegantly flipping the cocktail shaker and pouring them the most perfect serving of whatever drink they wanted.

Most of them would try and trick George, clearly noticing he was somewhat young (they didn’t need to know he was only just about to finish his first year of university) and order some overly ‘obscure’ cocktail. 

His favourite was when they tried to hit him with some cocktail that they pre-emptively would say ‘you’ll never have heard of this but…’ and George was able to give it to them without even thinking about it. 

He wasn’t in school to be a bartender, he was studying business management. But he was smart. And smart boys studied. 

Smart boys studied obscure cocktails so that they didn’t let these hot shot lawyers think they were better than they were. 

Only problem was, when George was able to impress these hotshots, they suddenly made it seem as though George was _indebted_ to them all of a sudden? As though it was now George’s responsibility to let them flirt and make sexual comments about him just because he was a pretty boy who made them a pretty drink.

Now, George dealt with drunks a lot. He dealt with people who didn’t take no for an answer a lot. He had people that would offer him anything if he’d sleep with them. 

He knew how to say no.

He knew how to diffuse situations and he knew how to lie to his advantage. 

People had heard of Charles and Max, twin brothers that he was friends with, thanks to their god-father/uncle/Dad’s best friend being a lawyer, and as such Charles’ reputation was very well known. If George understood correctly, Charles had even slept with a number of the lawyers that often attended these events. If George needed a fake boyfriend, Charles was an easy cover. And Charles was pretty enough that George didn’t mind lying about that chaotic demon being his boyfriend. He’d only met the kid a few times when Charles had broken in to Max’s room in the university flat accommodation that George shared with Max and a handful of other lads, but Charles was alright. Bit of a slut from what he heard but kid seemed happy and George didn’t judge. 

At least with Charles when you said no he respected your answer and would just shrug and move on.

Honestly the older generation complain so much about the younger ones but at least they seemed to grasp consent and ‘please leave me alone’ better. 

“You’re very good at your job,” some marginally drunken sleaze attempted to drawl at him as George shook the cocktail mixer for the... honestly young enough to be the man’s granddaughter that he had on his arm. 

“Thank you, Sir,” George smiled.

“My young lady likes you too.”

“She looks very beautiful in her dress,” George nodded.

“It’s Alexander McQueen, you know,” The man said.

George didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. 

Charles would be able to tell straight away, and George was definitely going to drop him a text and tell him about it. He’d probably even know how much it cost. But honestly, as pretty as the girl looked, it was still a very generic baby blue midi dress with lots and lots of folds in the skirt. It didn’t look that fancy. 

“I could dress you in McQueen too, you pretty little thing,” the man said, drawing George’s attention back to him.

“I’m perfectly happy as I am, Sir, thank you. It’s regulation uniform for me I’m afraid.”

He didn’t need to tell the man that his regulation uniform was from Hugo Boss. It was a simple black pair of dress pants and a white shirt. Nothing fancy, but still, it was designer enough that the company George worked for felt it was putting the best look forward. 

“You’d look gorgeous in McQueen. You’ve got the figure for it. Very toned.”

“Not really my style,” George attempted to laugh the man off, sliding the now made cocktail across to the young lady who just seemed to look increasingly bored with every passing second. 

George had seen girls like her around before. The ones that were only with old men like this for the money or the perks. Told to hang off their arm and smile and look pretty (and most importantly keep their mouths shut) and be paid handsomely.

Honestly George was a little surprised he’d never seen Charles around here. He’d thrive in a place like this. 

Frankly, George didn’t blame them. 

Often times he’d get chatting to the girls and they’d tell him how easy it was. Most of the men only wanted them for company and to have someone to spoil, sex wasn’t a requirement. And when you’re getting a £2,000 or more allowance a week, it’s a good little side hustle to have. 

If you’re into that.

George wasn’t.

He didn’t like the idea of someone paying for all his stuff. When he needed some new trainers for the gym, George put in the work to get the money for them. When his flat wanted to order takeaway, George would work out if it was in his budget for that week. The idea of becoming reliant on someone else for money really did not sound appealing at all. 

Sure, it would be nice to not have to worry about it, but George’s job gave him enough financial stability that he didn’t need to anyway.

“Come on, baby boy, I’m sure you’d look gorgeous in it.” Oh, so the man was still drawling on.

“Sir, I have a job to do, so if you-”

“I’m offering you a way to stop doing this job, you little fool. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be behind the bar!”

“Sir, if you wouldn’t mind-”

“You should be grateful!”

“I understand, Sir, but-” George was cut off by the man grabbing at his wrist, pulling him across the bar slightly. The man’s grip was like iron and even the girl looked surprised by the rapid turn of behaviour.

“I want you. And I always-”

“Are you harassing this lovely young man, Elton?”

George couldn’t look up from the way the drunken sleaze was still gripping his wrist to see who had come to try and diffuse the situation. He knew self-defence, knew how to break out of this hold. Except George wasn’t exactly sure if he’d still have a job at the end of the night if he did. 

“What do you want, Hamilton?”

“I’m simply asking a question, Elton. We are lawyers, after all, it’s what we do best.”

Great, George thought, another self-entitled prick who would get all ‘you should be grateful to me for saving you’. 

Nah

George wasn’t having that

“I’m not doing anything. I saw him first. I want him.”

“I’m not a fucking toy,” George hissed, twisting his arm and knocking it upwards so that ‘Elton’ was dislodged from touching him. ‘Elton’ nearly fell over from George’s movement, dragging the attention of many people in the event, combined with the attention of his boss.

Who didn’t look impressed…

Brilliant

Great

George was _so_ getting fired 

“You’re going to pay for this,” Elton told George, a fire in his eyes that George had seen on many of these lawyers before they started arguing with each other about which of them was more important. 

George was too busy staring at his boss who was making her way over to him to actually care. 

God he _really_ liked this job as well. 

Just as his boss got within earshot, ‘Hamilton’ interrupted anything his boss could say by turning to Elton and saying, 

“I think you’ll find that you’ve already been investigated for sexual harassment once, Mr Maverick. And I’m sure your young lady here can attest to how you were harassing this young man, who was simply trying to do his job. He asked you politely to step away, and he may have laughed and joked around with you, however that does not mean you are entitled to him, or his body, or his life. He is his own person and when he says no, you respect his decision, you pay for your drink, and you leave. You continued to harass him, putting him in an uncomfortable position in which you now want him to lose his job simply for the fact that you are a self-entitled asshole who can’t stand not getting your own way. I’m sure Mr Vettel would be most displeased to hear how poorly you are representing the firm, in fact I see him over there, I shall go and have a word with him about you Elton. Now, if you still want to maintain even a quarter of your dignity, I suggest you leave. And you apologise to this young man for harassing him whilst he’s trying to work.”

George stood there in silence, not quite sure what to do, say, or whether to even breathe. 

Especially when he looked across at this ‘Hamilton’ and immediately went weak at the knees. 

The man was like a walking God, only not the bad type he’d talked about lawyers being earlier. He was absolutely _stunning_ and not at all like the lawyers George was used to seeing. 

Hamilton had tattoos across his hands, on his neck, his suit wasn’t the typical black that most of the other lawyers were wearing but instead a dark maroon with a black shirt, the top few buttons undone and George was just able to sneak a peek at more tattoos peeking through the gap. His hair was shaved to the skin at the sides and longer curls settled messily on top. 

His watch looked like it cost more than George’s rent for the entire year and the rings on his fingers and bracelet on his wrist was close to giving George heart palpitations with how expensive he looked.

And yet he was so goddamn attractive that George really hated his rule of ‘don’t sleep with people at events you work’. It was different to sleep with someone at the student bar on campus. No one remembered who you were the morning after. Here, everyone knew everything. George really didn’t want to get involved with some political scandal, especially not when one of the guys he lived with was a nephew to the guy that apparently this ‘Hamilton’ knew. 

“George, are you okay?” Mr Vettel turned up seconds later, Hamilton and Elton still in a stare off and George’s boss looking between George and the assembled lawyers. 

“I’m fine, Mr Vettel, thank you. Mr Hamilton here was just trying to diffuse the situation.”

“Got another harassment charge, Seb,” Hamilton interrupted and turning to Mr Vettel. “He wouldn’t leave the kid alone.”

“I’m not a kid,” George mumbled, going back to cleaning a glass but not missing the way that Hamilton shot him a grin. 

“He wouldn’t leave this young man alone,” Hamilton corrected. “Grabbed him and was spewing all that stuff again about how he should be grateful.”

“Is that true, George?” Mr Vettel asked, however his gaze was fixed on Elton who was gradually growing more and more pale with each passing second.

“Yes, Mr Vettel,” George reluctantly said. He could see his boss staring at him, as though he’d broken some sort of code but he was also pretty sure they’d been told that they were allowed to report sexual harassment, but it was also almost impossible to fight against a lawyer. George wasn’t stupid. He knew how smart these people were.

“Have you apologised to George, Mr Maverick?”

“I didn’t get chance, Sebastian,” Elton muttered, flicking his gaze between Hamilton and Mr Vettel. 

“Then I suggest you do it now.”

George got along with Mr Vettel reasonably well. He’d been talking to Charles once when he’d seen Mr Vettel outside of work and the man had been incredibly pleasant, making a point of hugging his nephew/god-son/kid of the man he was friends with and asking how university was going. 

He’d never heard that ice cold tone in his voice before. 

Now George got what the twins meant when they said that ‘Uncle Seb’ could be terrifying. 

He knew Mr Vettel was an extremely well sought-after lawyer with an iron reputation and a phenomenal win streak, however George had never been given a reason to know why. 

Now he got it. 

Holy shit this man was _good_. 

“I’m sorry for harassing you, George,” Elton eventually said under Mr Vettel’s strict gaze. 

“Now, I suggest you leave, Mr Maverick. I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow morning for your meeting with HR,” Mr Vettel told him and Elton was quick to leave, his young lady trailing after him with an apologetic smile to George. At least she was nice. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, George?” Mr Vettel checked and George nodded. 

“Thank you, Mr Vettel, I’m sorry for causing an issue.”

“Honestly George, don’t apologise. I’m sorry to say but you’re not the first. We’ve had numerous complaints but never any ability to do anything about it. I’m just glad I can finally get rid of him,” Mr Vettel told him before turning to George’s boss, “I hope George won’t be losing his job over this, especially considering it is not his fault.”

“No, no of course not,” George’s boss told him and George sighed in relief, “I’m glad he’s okay. George, we can relieve you for the rest of your shift if you like. You can get home and shower or whatever you need if you like.”

As much as George wanted to say no he was fine, that he didn’t need to do that, after all he was used to the mild harassment from drunkards, there was just something about this time that had George shook and he wanted to scrub at his wrist and get the feeling of the man off him. 

“Are you sure? I can keep working, I’m fine,” George told her, hiding his shaky hands behind his back. 

“George, sweetheart, it’s okay. Look after yourself. And I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow and we can discuss what kind of events you want to be working at in the future.”

“Lewis, can you check that George gets home safe? I don’t want you getting the tube home,” Mr Vettel said and George felt his heart stop. 

“No, Mr Vettel, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” George argued. 

“George, Lewis will just make sure you get a cab home safe, we’ll pay for it. It’s the least my company can do as an apology for what my people do to you.”

George knew that there was no fighting Mr Vettel. He was a stubborn and powerful man and if he wanted to look out for George, he would. 

“Thank you, Mr Vettel,” George sighed, wiping his hands on the dishcloth and dropping it into the dirty box behind the bar. 

Hamilton smiled and waited for George to grab his few belongings before leading him out. People were staring at them, and George knew they had to look like an odd pair. Hamilton looked rich, drenched in money and expensive cologne and tailored suits and walked with power, whilst George was shaking slightly and he was clutching an iPhone that was a number of years out of date.

“How are you feeling?” Hamilton gently asked and George shrugged. 

“Okay I guess. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it. I’m sorry that happens to you.”

“Self-entitled rich bastards always act like that. They all think they’re God’s gift to the world and that I should fawn at their feet because they have money. I don’t need that. I don’t need people to fucking protect me. I’m not a child,” George snapped. 

Hamilton didn’t say anything for a moment, simply lead George over to a small wall and sat down for a moment, keeping a foot of distant between them when George also sat down. George’s leg was shaking as he bit at his lip, scrubbing his hand through his hair and looking away from Hamilton. 

“Do you want me to do anything?” he carefully asked. 

“No,” George whispered. 

He prayed that Hamilton didn’t hear his voice break or the way the tears sprung to his eyes. 

“George, it’s okay to cry.”

Whether it was Hamilton saying it or George just being unable to hold it back, he didn’t know, but the next thing he was aware of, he was buried in Lewis’ arms and he was crying hard. His hands were clutching at his shirt under Lewis’ blazer and Lewis was carefully stroking his fingers over the short hairs at the back of George’s head, rocking him gently and telling him he wasn’t alone. 

George wasn’t sure how long he spent crying in Lewis’ arms, the whole ordeal of constantly being harassed at these events finally catching up with him along with the knowledge that, for once, someone was protecting him and looking out for him. 

“I’m sorry,” George whispered when he’d finally calmed down enough that he could pull away and wipe at his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lewis reassured, brushing George’s hair off his forehead and George unconsciously lent into the touch, “I don’t really want to get you a cab home. I want to make sure you get home safe, is that okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d like to drive you back to your home, if that is okay?”

Normally George would say no. He didn’t know this man. He knew nothing about him. 

But for some reason he trusted him. 

He seemed like a good man. 

And so George nodded. 

“I’d like that,” George agreed, scrubbing at his eyes again and taking a deep breath. 

Lewis softly took George’s hands away from his face and brushed the tears from his face. 

George felt his eyes flutter shut as he lent into Lewis’ touch. His fingers were warm, soft, and so damn gentle where they touched George’s skin, leaving a trail of fire under the surface that George wanted to chase to get back. 

“George,” Lewis murmured. 

Pulling his eyes open, George looked up at Lewis, finding pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Kiss me,” George whispered. 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re upset, you’ve been hurt.”

“I know what I want. And I want you,” George told him, leaning in to brush his lips against Lewis’. 

Lewis pulled back slightly and flicked his eyes between George’s, almost as though he was checking if George was actually wanting this or whether he was in the wrong state of mind. 

“Lewis, kiss me,” George said again. 

This time Lewis did, their lips meeting perfectly as George’s hands returned to Lewis’ waist, holding onto him as Lewis’ hands cupped his jaw perfectly, as though his hands were made to hold George. There wasn’t a hint of alcohol on Lewis’ lips, nothing more than softness and warmth and a desire for this man to hold him for the rest of his life. The kiss didn’t deepen, as though Lewis was still careful to not push George too far considering the fact that not five minutes ago, George had been sobbing in his arms. 

But honestly, it was the best damn kiss George had ever had. 

Lewis was gentle but firm. 

Adrenaline spiked in George’s veins. 

It was so perfect. 

“Lewis,” George broke off with a breathless gasp, his eyes closed and pressing his forehead to Lewis’. 

“Let me take you home,” Lewis said and pressed more chaste kisses to George’s jawline. 

“Take me home with you,” George protested. 

“Are you sure? I don’t-”

“You’re not taking advantage of me. I want this. I promise. You make me feel safe.”

Lewis tied his fingers with George’s, letting them settle together on his thigh as he looked at George. 

“I’m older than you.”

“And I’m still a legal adult. I can make my own decisions. And I trust you.”

“I’m thirty-two, George. I don’t sleep around anymore.”

“Me neither,” George shrugged, “I know what I want, Lewis. And I want you.”

Lewis seemed to consider the words for a moment longer, looking down at their hands and swiping his thumb across George’s knuckles. 

“Do you need to let someone know you’re not coming home?” Lewis asked and George broke out into a smile. 

“I’ll text my flatmates.”

Lewis nodded and kissed George lightly again, trailing his fingers over George’s cheekbone before standing up and using the hand tied with George’s to pull him along. 

George honestly could not say he was surprised when Lewis opened the door to a Mercedes AMG GT, nor when they pulled up in a garage in Kensington. 

He also wasn’t surprised when Lewis pressed him into the mattress and took him gently and slowly, whilst still guiding George to the most perfect ecstasy. 

Admittedly, he was a little bit surprised the next morning when he woke up and Lewis was still sat in bed beside him, smiling down at him as he looked through what looked to be endless realms of words on his iPad. 

“Good morning,” Lewis whispered, brushing George’s hair off his head and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Morning,” George groaned as he stretched his arms above his head. 

Lewis passed across his coffee and George sat up clumsily, the expensive sheets pulled up to protect him from the cold as he lent into Lewis’ side and closed his eyes again. 

“How you feeling now?” Lewis asked, running his hand over George’s thigh. 

“Okay. Think that breakdown last night was definitely long over-due, but I’m alright. Hazard of the job and all that.”

“Why do you keep doing that job? If that’s just what happens all the time?”

“The pay is good,” George admitted, “Uni student, so I need all the cash I can get. And I do like it. The people are normally nice and most of the time when you turn someone down, they get a bit arsey with you but they move on. It normally doesn’t escalate like it did last night.”

“You deserve better. You shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like that, George.”

“Honestly it’s fine. Sometimes you have to suck it up for the money, you know?” George shrugged and took a sip of the coffee, slowly starting to wake up fully now. “What’s going to happen to that guy from last night?”

“Seb sent me a text earlier, says that he’s spoken to HR and they’re happy to suspend him pending an investigation which means he’ll get fired. We’ve got footage of him harassing you, and Imogen, the girl he was with last night, has also spoken to Seb and HR so he’ll be losing his job and his license to practice.” Lewis must’ve seen the somewhat guilty look on George’s face as he then explained, “He’s been going on for ages about retiring anyway. This is just a happy solution for everyone. And you’ll get compensation for him harassing you, Seb has already made everyone aware of that happening.”

“I don’t need that.”

“Yes, you do, George. You shouldn’t be made to feel uncomfortable or scared in your own workplace. And Sebastian really doesn’t take lightly to people damaging the reputation of his firm. He’s the kindest man, but he’s very strong and he won’t let this go untouched.”

George didn’t say anything, simply cuddled into Lewis’ side a touch more and drank more of the coffee. 

“Last night was nice after all that, anyway,” George said, looking down at his lap as the mild insecurity started to pour through. 

Lewis pressed a kiss to George’s temple and pulled his arm up around his shoulders before whispering, “I agree.”

“Can I see you again?”

“I’d love that,” Lewis said, smiling as he gently tilted George’s chin up to kiss him again. This kiss was with more meaning, deeper and lazy due to the early time, and George wanted it forever. 

“I’m going to take you on a proper date,” Lewis told him, pushing his iPad off his lap and taking the cup of coffee off George so he could pull George into his lap and have him straddle his waist.

“Yeah? Where you going to take me?” George whispered, hooking his arms around Lewis’ neck and slowly circling his ass down onto Lewis’ crotch.

“Let me surprise you, baby, let me treat you like the Prince you should be treated as.”

There was still that niggle in the back of his head telling him that he shouldn’t get involved with someone that drowned in money. He didn’t want to become one of those sugar babies or become too reliant on Lewis. The idea of that almost terrified George. 

But then he looked into Lewis’ eyes. 

And everything felt normal. 

And everything felt safe. 

Maybe, just maybe, Lewis would be the best thing to happen to him.

**Author's Note:**

> soft bois are sweet bois
> 
> kudos, comments & feedback always greatly appreciated💙
> 
> Tumblr is at 3303andmore - im currently on a small social media detox bc I am Exhausted so im not really visiting Tumblr but it's there if you wanna come yell at me lmao


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